Entries tagged with blood

As I said in my previous entry, yesterday was the one year anniversary of Dad's death, and today we got a card from the Patient & Family Support Team at the hospice saying that they're still there for us as long as we need them. I doubt we will but it's really nice to know that the option is there.

Also today Mum and I went to give blood and everything went smoothly this time. Although, Tilly wasn't very happy about us going. I think she thought we were taking her on a walk cos she ran to the front door and seemed so excited. It was actually rather difficult getting her back in the living room so we could leave and I felt so guilty!

Remember how a while ago I mentioned one of the banks I wrote to about Probate said that they had no records of any accounts in Dad's name so I had to write back to them with a copy of a letter which stated quite clearly that he did have an account with them?

Well now, nearly three weeks after my second letter, I have a reply from the same guy as before in which he refers to my that second letter as "advising" them of Dad's death, and explains that they need to see the death certificate in order to register it.

At first I was tempted to send a long, annoyed reply detailing our correspondence so far, but I think I'll just send the certificate with a covering letter and hope that they'll get it right this time.

I am annoyed though. Firstly because he told me there was no account when there was, presumably because he didn't bother to check properly, and secondly cos he didn't really address anything I said in my second letter. In fact I'm not sure he even read it, just saw that it was about a dead person and sent the form letter asking for a death certificate. He could have at least acknowledged that I'd already written to him and sent a certificate, but that he needs me to send it again cos he didn't bother to make a copy of it the first time.

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I tried to donate blood last month but couldn't cos my haemoglobin levels were too low again. This time they were low enough that they told me to see my GP and have taken me off the blood donor register for 12 months. I think that's a bit of an overreaction cos I looked it up and my levels only put me at 'slightly anaemic'.

Still, I went to the doctor and he said it could well just be due to me giving blood regularly, but he wants to do a blood test to check and see if there are any other issues that could be causing it.

It probably is just due to giving blood and I'm so annoyed with myself for it. I had had an appointment to donate later this month, but because I'll be away then I changed it and I thought it would be better to bring it forward rather than waiting another month. And if I'd just been patient and waited a bit longer I would probably have been fine and wouldn't now have to wait a year before being able to go again.

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Although I don't really care about sport in any way, I have had the England v Wales match on in the background as I've been writing this and it went into stoppage time with both teams tied 1-1. I turned to Tilly and said "You need to score another goal". She huffed, laid down, and a couple of seconds later England scored. I had assumed she'd go for Wales, being from there herself, but maybe she's been living in England so long she considers herself an English dog now. Either way, very impressive Tilly!

Mum and I went blood doning today. I wasn't able to donate cos my haemoglobin levels were too low, so Mum made up for it by donating too much. We both got handy leaflets to take home with us. It was funny cos before we went we were joking that Tilly wanted me to stay home and Mum could just donate for both of us!

In my previous entry I promised a more in-depth post about the wedding, so here we go:

I'm still not sure why I was an anxious about going to this thing. I mean, yeah, I know I'm still not great with being sociable but I've made so much progress in the past 15 years. I wasn't expecting this to affect me so much, but I was shaking on the way down and on the verge of tears quite a few times. I texted Paul and made him meet up with me before we checked in so I didn't have to go in by myself. And then I felt guilty for being so clingy.

The hotel was nice, although I had an issue with my door not locking. Paul and I went to reception and they said they'd send someone up to check it. After the ceremony I decided to pop up and see if it was fixed, but it still opened without the keycard. So I went back down and they said they'd sent someone and he said it was fine. Clearly didn't do a very good job with that! The lady then moved me to another room, so I went and moved my stuff down while pictures were being taken. It wasn't a big deal, but I really didn't need another thing to worry about when I was already so anxious.

The ceremony was nice, although out of date. The officiant said that "The law of this country defines marriage as the union of one man and one woman" and I was sitting there thinking "Not any more!" The meal was good too. Because the wedding was superhero themed we all got characters on our placecards. I was Storm, although I was sat on the Spiderman table rather than the X-Men one. But that's ok. Beast and Gambit were also there with me.

The reception followed, which was where I struggled a lot. The music was so loud and overwhelming I again felt close to tears and just wanted to escape. But I stuck it out. What helped a lot was moving to a nearby room where we could still hear the music, but it was at a far more manageable level. I wish we'd thought to do that earlier, but people seemed to be having fun dancing. The groom's father made me get up and dance at one point, which I really wish I was able to enjoy but I just felt too uncomfortable and self conscious. I told myself that I'd dance again when they played my song request, but they never did.

The hotel was only a couple of miles from my house but I chose to stay over so I didn't have to worry about getting a taxi home, and I'm glad I did. It was one less thing to panic about, and it meant that I got to have breakfast with friends (including the bride and groom) the next day, which was nice.

So yeah, I'm trying to focus on the positives of the weekend (namely the fact that I went and stuck it out till the end and it was a lovely wedding) and not so much the negatives (how much I leaned on Paul for support the whole time and the fact that I was panicking about quite simple things in the first place.)

And despite the fact that it went mostly well, I still spent a lot of Sunday plagued with the idea that everyone I talked to or interacted with now thinks I'm a horrible person because of something I said or did or didn't say or didn't do. That was fun.

Hello friends, acquaintances and people who are lost on the way to someone else's journal. This is going to be a very nonsensical entry filled with pointless complaining and CAPSLOCK OF RAGE and also CAPSLOCK OF RANDOM EMPHASIS and quite possibly CAPSLOCK OF MAKING SENTENCES SOUND BETTER BY HAVING THREE EXAMPLES INSTEAD OF TWO.

First I must share with you all the fact that I am LE TIRED. This is because I began work at 9 today and, other than my hour's lunch (MMM SUBWAY GOODNESS) I didn't stop until 5:30. "But crystalcazzie" I hear you say, "Most people work from 9 till 5:30." And this is true, but unlike a lot of those people, my job involves walking almost constantly and carrying stuff. Often heavy stuff. Thanks to my job I now consider anything under 20kg to be LIGHT.

So my LEGS HURT. And my FEET HURT. And I have loads of bruises because I am apparently as clumsy as Bella Swan and keep walking into things. Heavy things. Sometimes metal things. I also have a plaster on my finger cos last night I managed to grate a chunk of it off. There was BLOOD. On the one hand this shows that the 99p Argos grater I bought for 89p is very SHARP and that is GOOD. On the other hand it shows that I should not cook for myself because I can't be trusted around sharp implements and, again, that I am like BELLA FUCKING SWAN. This is NOT A GOOD THING.

Also, I'm NOT DRUNK. I'm NOT EVEN DRINKING. This must be rectified immediately because it is FRIDAY and I'm on the verge of KILLING SOMEONE.

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You can probably guess that that is supposed to represent me getting a drink. I now have RUM AND COKE. Actually I have RUM AND PEPSI but that doesn't sound as sophisticated. This means I have been PLACATED and my icon is no longer representative of my general mood, but I shall keep it anyway because Xena is AWESOME.

There was less CAPSLOCK OF RAGE in this entry than I had originally planned, because I am paranoid over the TINY TINY TINY CHANCE that someone from work will find this journal. It's more FUN without the RAGE anyway.

I finally decided to see the doctor about my headaches but he's on holiday so I saw the nurse practitioner instead. She told me to take ibuprofen and come back if that doesn't work. So now I'm not sure what to do, cos the ibuprofen works but that doesn't really address why I'm getting the headaches in the first place. Do I just keep taking it? Maybe I can pretend it's vicodin and become a cool drug addict like House.

I also went to the opticians in case my eyes were the problem. Apparently I am very slightly short-sighted. So I do now have a prescription for glasses but the optometrist recommended that I only fill it if no other cause can be found. And it's just for distance perception anyway, so it would really only be an issue if I drove.

Customers continue to be fucking stupid and demonstrate a complete inability to read or act like civilised human beings.

On the bright side, once I can get my dad off the TV I can watch the latest episode of Battlestar Galactica, which is my newest obsession. I came to this programme late and caught up on the whole series so far over the last month and a half, and now there are just three episodes left. This is a bit different to my usual obsessions spanning months and years and long, painful hiatuses where I'm driven crazy wondering what's going to happen.

And of course I have latched on to my beloved OTP and will be absolutely devastated if anything happens to either of them, which looks highly likely considering one of them is dying.

I think I know why I was tired yesterday. Apparently I am borderline anaemic. I found this out today when I tried to give blood but my haemoglobin levels were too low. (Not just 'You can't donate today' low, but 'We're going to send your blood off for tests and then you should go see your doctor' low.)

I blame work. I've never had a problem donating before.

Speaking of work, I'm 11 till 7 tomorrow. Oh, the joys of a new catalogue.

Hey everyone. Thanks for the replies to my last entry. I'm feeling better now. A lot of that is due to last night when I spent a wonderful evening with Blue, Dwarfy and Paul. As well as having a great time, it also made me realise how far I've actually come. There I was, sitting at a table with three other people, one of whom I'd barely met before, chatting and laughing and having fun. A few years ago in that situation I would have been anxious and nervous and too scared to say anything. I'd have been sitting there silently, desperately wanting to get away and then later would have berated myself for being so pathetic and stupid and wasting such a perfect opportunity to have a social life.

I also got the train by myself, ordered my own drinks and walked with my head up rather than staring at my feet. All of which are great achievements from how I used to be.

And I'm getting out more. As well as last night, I'm giving blood this evening and going to Paul's to bake on Sunday. That's three trips out of the house this week!

Speaking of Paul's, I'm not sure I'll be able to get my files off my Apple laptop even with his computer because I'm not sure there are any ports to do it with. It doesn't have a firewire port because it pre-dates the creation of firewire. It does have a plug-in floppy drive, which is the best option. Unfortunately I cannot find it.

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Despite the upbeat nature of this post and recent events, I do find my optimism wavering just a bit with the two more library rejection letters I received today. One doesn't bother me too much, but the other was the Oxford OULS placement - The one I really wanted. So I'm kinda sad about that.

The reason I ask is that my mum, brother and I all went to give blood yesterday and, just like last time, they pricked my ring finger. But everyone else I saw had plasters on their middle fingers.

Also, they took it from my left hand, which made Mum and Robert jealous because when they held out their left hands they were told it was better from the right. And they both had their middle fingers pricked.